Swanwhite
The palace was beautiful and it was for her own good. Her delicate skin could not stand the sunlight, so she lived in one of the highest towers, with everything she could want at her fingertips.
Swanwhite, they called her.
But the woman who lived in her dreams was just as pale as she, and that one walked in the sunlight.
She was free, tall and fierce where Swanwhite was delicate and weak. The only aspect in her favor was her face, a sickly invalid's beauty. Dark hair, dark eyes, skin pale as a swan. The bards sang that her reflection would linger in any water that she might gaze in, but that was only a pretty lie.
Sometimes if she begged, her father would let her go out to the Lands near Lantern Waste, to see the odd iron tree with its flickering light. But today she begged to be taken to another tree, the Tree of Protection. The woman from her dreams had whispered to her that she would be waiting there.
She set out with a full procession of nobles and servants. Someone had brought a group of hounds, for the White Stag had been sighted near the Tree in recent days. Their loud barking filled her with energy. She was being carried in a litter, and her father had made her promise to hold a parasol as well, to keep off any rays of sunlight that might get past the curtains of the litter.
There was a loud howling from the trees, and wolves burst out of the forest, one going straight for the hounds. A loud cry swelled from the assorted nobles and the men reached for their swords, but drew back when they saw that their swords had been changed into useless feathers. Low cackling emanated from the woods-the chilling sign of a Hag.
One wolf leapt at the throat of one of her litter-bearers, who raised an arm to block it. The other three struggled to hold it up, but it finally collapsed, and Swanwhite was thrown from it onto the road. The harsh rays of the sun beat down her skin, burning her, and she opened her parasol quickly.
"Princess Swanwhite!" A young man, whom she recognized as one of her father's honor guard, rushed up to her. Suddenly, his face twisted and he fell at her feet. There was an arrow protruding from his back, and Swanwhite heard the heavy hoof beats of a centaur. She clawed at the ground, dragging herself upright and stumbled into the forest, away from the threat. She did not know how long she walked in there, but it felt as if she knew where she was going. She finally stopped at the edge of a small clearing which surrounded the mouth of a cave. As she stood there, wondering what to do now, a proud looking woman stepped out of the cave.
"Swanwhite," she said simply, "come here." She crooked one of her long fingers and the princess ran forward, her dress catching on thorns as she pushed into the cave.
Here was her dream made flesh: the woman was as tall as some of the younger Trees of the forest and dressed in rich black robes. Her hands and arms were encrusted in silver: ornate bracelets, ancient looking rings. A silver medallion hung from heavy chain around her neck. Her skin was so pale that her features nearly melted together, except for the obscenely red lips that covered fine white teeth. One corner of the cave was almost completely covered in pelts of fine white fur, and here the woman lounged. Two wolves lay curled up in the far corner of the cave and they watched her with sharp, intelligent yellow eyes as she stumbled through the cave.
"Swanwhite," she said again. "Come sit beside me."
Swanwhite stumbled to the the furs and fell to her knees as she had seen many a supplicant do before her father. A hand, pale against even her skin, slid up her neck and cupped her cheek.
"What a beautiful, obedient girl you are, Swanwhite." This close up, Jadis' mouth was red like pomegranate seeds. "How old are you?"
"Nineteen."
"And you are not yet Queen?" Swanwhite shook her head and the cool metal of Jadis' rings grazed her skin. "When I was your age, I had already crushed thousands beneath my heel, and I knew the Deep Magicks."
"I...I am too sickly, my father says." She tried to look away, but Jadis caught her chin.
"You could be well again. You could be powerful, even. You could be Queen."
Her lips were so dark, so red. They made Swanwhite think of blood, of gleaming white bowls catching endless streams of it as she was bled(to balance the humors, your Majesty, for her own good, your Majesty). Days watching the servants' children playing on the castle lawn, nights spent counting each breath and watching the stars disappear one by one from the sky.
"Yes. Yes, that's what I want."
Triumph flashed in those colorless eyes and the witch's hand dropped to Swanwhite's neck, tracing her pulse. "Good. I will do these things for you, but there is a price. There is always a price."
"I will pay it."
"Yes, you will. I will take the price for your health now..." She released Swanwhite and leaned back into the furs. She began to undo the clasps on her robe, beckoning to Swanwhite. The princess licked suddenly dry lips, and fear crept quietly into her stomach. When she didn't move, Jadis pulled at her hair so she fell forward onto the other woman's chest.
Her first impression was of cold. Jadis's skin was like ice, and then she could feel the power thrumming inside of the Witch, the passion that ran through her veins and fueled her pride. She knew at once that Jadis had lived for many years before she herself had even been born, and would still be alive when Swanwhite was only a name that the court historians wrote in their thick books.
Then Jadis was pushing her head down and she struggled to breathe, only to find her nostrils filled with a strong, musky odor. There was something cold and wet brushing against her cheek and she turned her head, opening her mouth at the same time. The Witch hissed in encouragement and pushed Swanwhite's head deeper between her legs.
Swanwhite lapped furiously and clumsily at the skin in front of her. Tears were streaming down her face and her legs were going to sleep, but the Witch didn't seem to notice. Her hand was still strong on the back of Swanwhite's head, keeping her in place. Finally, the Witch shuddered and let out a high, keening cry, letting go of Swanwhite at the same time.
She had never in her life felt so sick and tired as she did at that moment, and she felt ancient as well, older than the very stone beneath her. Her eyelids were heavy and she slumped back, barely able to support her own weight. She wished desperately that she had not come here, that she had never met the woman from her dreams.
But then Jadis reached down and tilted her chin up so she was looking the Witch in the eye. She had pleased her, Swanwhite could tell that much, even given her inexperience, and with Jadis's eyes on her, the despair she had been feeling vanished. She had paid the price. She curled up on one of the many furs and drifted to sleep, barely noticing when Jadis sent one of her wolves from the cave.
Swanwhite awoke the next morning alone and dressed quickly. A cruel looking knife was wrapped up in the fabric of her shawl.
To make you queen, the price is kinsblood
To make you powerful, the tree must come down.
She tucked the knife into her bodice and stepped out into the sunlight, leaving her parasol behind.